


Grandpa

by SusanMM



Series: The Bongiovanni Chronicles [2]
Category: Cover Up (TV), The A-Team (TV), The Master - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Family Reunions, Gen, Ninja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4145253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanMM/pseuds/SusanMM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Peter McAllister finally finds his daughter and grandson. Unfortunately, someone else is looking for her, too. In the meantime, the A-Team go to visit General Fulbright's daughter, Tia, who's working as a model for Dani Reynolds. Mayhem ensues. Three-way crossover: THE MASTER, THE A-TEAM, COVER UP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Tale of Two Grandfathers

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter 3 of the Bongiovanni Chronicles. Chapter 1, "Silver and Gold," has not been posted yet.

**Standard Fanfic Disclaimer** that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law. These aren't my characters. Based on characters and situations from  _The Master, The A-Team,_ and _Cover Up._ I've borrowed them for, um, er, typing practice. Yeah, that's it, typing practice. I will return them to their original copyright holders relatively unharmed (or at least suitably bandaged). This story was originally published in the fanzine End of the Rainbow #3, published by Neon Rainbow Press. Chapter 3 of the Bongiovanni Chronicles, and a sequel to "Alien Sushi" and "Silver and Gold."

**Grandpa**

Susan M. M.

_A-Team/T_ _he_ _M_ _aster/_ _Cover Up_

(Chapter 3 of the Bongiovanni Chronicles)

* * *

John Peter McAllister lay on his side on a motel bed . The white-haired WWII veteran was currently serving as a rodent obstacle course. Henry, a brown and white hamster, was running up and down his arm.

Max Keller, Henry's owner and McAllister's pupil, was on the floor between the two beds. The curly-haired young man was doing push-ups. "Sixty-four, sixty-five."

"In Japanese," McAllister reminded him.

" _Rokuju-roku, rokuku-nana."_

McAllister had spent most of his adult life in Japan. He'd gone there with the Army Air Corps … and stayed. He'd always been fascinated by the legends of the  _ninja_  – the semi-mystical sect of warrior-assassins who could allegedly walk up walls, disappear into shadows, defeat a superior number of foes with esoteric weapons, even sneak into an enemy fortress, slit the commander's throat, sabotage the armory, and sneak out without disturbing a single sentry.

For two years after the war, McAllister had worked on improving his Japanese. He'd studied karate, judo, swordsmanship, and gymnastics. Now and again, he'd let a discreet word fall in various ears that he was interested in the  _ninja_. Then in 1947, he'd gone to rescue a Japanese woman from the unwelcome attentions of two drunken American sailors. His efforts hadn't been necessary. Her name was Okasa Tatsu, and she was a  _kunoichi_ , a female  _ninja_. She'd knocked out both sailors without breaking a sweat, then turned, smiled, and extended a hand to him. He'd taken her hand, and not looked back for nearly forty years.

He'd become one of the very few  _gaijin_   _ninja_  in the centuries-old history of the  _ninja_. He became the only occidental American to achieve the rank of a  _ninja meijin –_ a  _ninja_ master. He would have lived and died in Japan, practicing and teaching martial arts and meditation for the rest of his life if two things hadn't happened. He'd learned that some of his former students, led by Okasa Ryu, Tatsu's grandson, had gone back to the ancient ways of the  _ninja,_  selling their skills to the highest bidder: sabotage, industrial espionage, assassination. And he'd learned that he had a daughter. A stranger had sent him a letter, claiming to be the daughter of his Korean War girlfriend, claiming to be his daughter, and stating that she was in trouble and needed his help. He'd returned to the United States to seek her out, but she had vanished, fleeing whatever – or whoever - it was that was chasing her. Unfortunately, he himself was being chased by young Okasa, who regarded his departure from the sect as a betrayal of their ancient secrets.

" _Rokuju-hachi, rokuju-ku."_  Max continued his push-ups.

Suddenly the phone in the motel room rang.

"Do you suppose that's her?" Max asked. He started to get up.

"Who else knows we're here?" McAllister replied rhetorically. "No one told you to stop." He set Henry down gently and reached for the phone. "Hello?" He couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"Is this – is this John McAllister?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes, speaking. Are you Teri?"

"Yes, I'm Teri. I got Rick's message that you were trying to reach me," she said.

"I've been trying to find you ever since I got your message in Japan." McAllister's heart swelled as he spoke to his daughter for the first time in his life. "When I reached Ellerston, you'd already left."

"I had to leave. I'm in trouble, big trouble."

"What can I do to help?" McAllister asked.

"It's not safe to tell you over the phone."

"Where can I meet you?" McAllister demanded.

"Balboa Park. The International Cottages, in an hour."

"I have your picture; I know what you look like. I'm an old coot, going bald," he told her.

"I have your picture, too. Rick snapped one of you," she explained.

"Will – will your son be there with you?" McAllister asked.

"Oh, yes, Tony will be with me. He's the reason we're on the run." She hung up without saying another word.

Max got up from the floor and dusted off his hands. "We'd better go." He reached for Henry and tucked the hamster gently in his pocket.

"Will it take us an hour to reach Balboa Park?"

"No, but on a Sunday it'll take us that long to find parking."

* * *

Contrary to Max's expectations, they found a parking space with very little difficulty. Which meant they had time to wait. And wait.

McAllister's eyes scanned the area the entire time, looking for Teri, or whoever was chasing her, or Okasa. He saw nothing but families enjoying themselves and the pleasant summer Sunday.

A dozen or more white cottages were gathered in an oval around a grassy lawn. Dating back to the 1935 Exposition, they were the Houses of Pacific Relations International Cottages. Each one housed representatives from a different country, Americans honoring the traditions of their immigrant ancestors. Max and McAllister wandered the area for a bit, looking for Teri, then finally settled on a bench near the north end of the multicultural grove.

Max pointed. A pretty woman had caught his eye. "Brunette at ten o'clock, and she's got a kid with her."

McAllister followed his student's gaze. He didn't need to look at the photograph in his hand; he recognized her at once. "It's Teri."

The two men stood in unison and began walking toward her. The woman saw them. She looked at a picture in her hand, then began walking to meet them.

McAllister stopped a pace or two away from her. "Teri?"

She nodded. "You're John McAllister."

He nodded, wondering whether she'd be willing to let a stranger hug her in public. "I've been looking – "

Before he could finish the sentence, she threw herself at him, embracing him as if to give thirty years of hugs at once. "Dad," she murmured, but it was almost more a breath than a whisper.

After a moment she let him go. "And this young fellow must be Tony?" McAllister looked down at his grandson, a handsome boy of five or six with curly black hair. He was startled to see his own cobalt blue eyes looking back at him from the boy's face.

"Are you my Grandpa?" Tony asked.

"Only if I'm very lucky," McAllister replied.

Tony seemed confused by that answer, not sure if it was a yes or a no.

"This is Max Keller, a friend of mine," McAllister introduced. "He's been helping me look for you."

"Glad we finally found you." Max extended his hand, and Teri shook it. He gave her an unobtrusive once-over: medium height, wavy dark brown hair, almost black, stormy blue eyes, and a figure that Praxiteles would have loved to have sculpted. It was easy to see why she made her living as a model.

"If you're my Grandpa, why haven't I met you before?" Tony demanded. "I used to see Grandpa Joe all the time, before we started traveling so much."

"I lived in Japan for a long time." McAllister knelt down to be face to face with the boy. "That's very far away, and I didn't have your address."

"Oh." Tony considered this a moment.

"Now, your Mom is smarter than I am – must take after your Grandma Laura – and she found my address."

"Do you know Grandma Laura?" The acquaintanceship evidently raised McAllister's status in Tony's eyes.

"I knew her a long time ago. I thought she was a very special lady." McAllister lowered his voice confidentially. "I even kissed her."

Tony nodded. "I kiss her, too."

Still down on one knee, McAllister looked up at Teri. "How is your mother? Is she- "

"She's fine. She lives in Seattle now. She's the one who found out you were still alive. I always thought you were killed in Korea."

McAllister rose. Despite his white hair, he moved with the grace and dexterity of a much younger man. "I was a POW. Missing in action, believed killed. Took a while to get the military bureaucrats to correct the records after I managed to escape from the prison camp." He reached out and took her hand. "You said there was something you needed help with?"

Teri glanced down at Tony. The three adults traded comprehending looks. This was something young ears didn't need to hear.

"Hey, Tony, you ever been here before?" Max asked.

"No."

"Well, every one of these cottages has foreign flags, pictures of castles and kings, and," Max paused dramatically, "cookies and cake. Shortbread at the House of Scotland, butter cookies at the House of Denmark, apple streusel at the House of Germany. If it's okay with your Mom, what do you say we go see how many different types of cookies we can eat?"

Tony's eyes lit up at the thought of cookies. "Can I, Mama?"

"May I, and yes, you may." Teri shot Max a grateful look.

"C'mon, Sport." Max laid a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder to steer him to the first cottage. They'd only gone a step or two when Max heard McAllister call his name. He stopped and turned his head.

McAllister barked out an order in Japanese.

" _Hai, meijin."_ Max inclined his head sharply, as close to a formal bow as he dared come in public.

As they wandered off, McAllister turned to Teri and explained, "I told him to take care of Tony." It was a half-truth; his actual words had been 'guard him with your life.' McAllister pointed. "There's a bench over there. We can sit down and you can tell me what's wrong."

She followed him back to the brick bench and sat down. He took her hand and peered into her face. He stared at her a moment, as if trying to memorize her features. "You are so beautiful … like your mother."

Teri gave a half-smile. "Mom always said I looked like you."

"My hair used to be that color." He reached out and gently caressed her coffee-brown hair. "But we've got the rest of our lives to get acquainted. What kind of trouble are you in? What can I do to help?"

"It's Tony's other grandfather." Teri bit her lip nervously, trying to decide how to explain.

"Grandpa Joe," McAllister prompted.

"His name is Joe Bongiovanni."

"You say that like I should recognize it."

"If you were a police officer, you would. He's in organized crime."

"He wants to hurt you and Tony?" McAllister's paternal hackles rose.

Teri shook her head. "Worse. He wants custody of Tony."

"Legal custody? Has he filed a lawsuit?"

"I could fight a custody petition. A doting grandpa with a Beverly Hills mansion with an electric fence and armed guards, that's tougher to fight. Joe likes me; he adores Tony. And now that Nicky – my husband – is dead, he wants … he wants Tony. He thinks we'll be safer behind bars, living in his gilded cage." Teri looked up at her father. "Joe sees Tony as his legacy, carrying on the family name." She took a deep breath. "Carrying on the family business."

"So you've been running from him." McAllister held her hand.

"Joe would never hurt Tony, not deliberately. But I can't let him be brought up in that world. Nicky managed to escape it. I won't let Tony be drawn into it, to be raised as the crown prince of a mafia empire."

"He won't." McAllister assured her, "I'll protect you and Tony."

"But he's dangerous," Teri protested.

"So am I," McAllister promised.

_To be continued ..._


	2. Enter the A-Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The A-Team arrive at Balboa Park. Unfortunately, so does mafia don Joe Bongiovanni.

* * *

 

A big, beefy Black man drove a black and gray van through Balboa Park, hunting in vain for a parking space. His name was Bosco "B. A." Baracus, and he was part of a former mercenary squad known throughout the LA Underground as the A-Team.

"Be good to see Tia again," Templeton Peck, aka Faceman, said. The con man was a handsome man in his early thirties, with blond hair and a face that women fell for and people instinctively trusted.

"You sure Stockwell can't track us?" asked "Howling Mad" Murdock.

"Don't worry," replied John "Hannibal" Smith, the leader of the A-Team. "Frankie has Stockwell distracted."

B. A. just grunted. He knew Frankie Santana was a friend of Hannibal's, and the special effects expert had thrown in his lot with the ex-mercenaries, but he wasn't really part of the A-Team. B. A. wasn't sure that Frankie was up to the job of distracting Gen. Hunt Stockwell.

Until a few months ago, the A-Team had been wanted criminals, pursued by the military authorities for escaping from a top-security facility, wanted for a crime they hadn't committed. A few months ago, Hunt Stockwell had gathered the team into his grubby paws and turned them into government agents, doing the jobs that were too dangerous for regular government operatives. In theory, Stockwell would arrange for their pardons, once they'd run a sufficient number of "errands" for him. In actual fact, the A-Team trusted him not quite as far as they could throw him.

They were going to visit Tia Fulbright, the Amerasian daughter of their former nemesis, Gen. Harlan Fulbright. However, since Tia was in the country illegally, the last thing they wanted Stockwell to do was learn of her existence. He wouldn't have her deported back to Vietnam, but he'd be sure to use her as a hostage to ensure the A-Team's continued cooperation.

"Turn here," Face directed. "There's a small parking lot behind the Botanical Building that most people don't know about. There might be a space there."

B. A. went past the Spanish Village and turned by the theater. Sure enough, half a block away, he found a small parking lot that even on a Sunday had some empty spaces.

"How'd you know about this?" asked Murdock.

"If you're in San Diego with a ladyfriend, Balboa Park is a romantic place … and cheap," Face explained. "And this should be close to where Tia will be working."

* * *

"Hi, Mama!"

Teri and McAllister looked up as Tony ran toward them. Max trotted behind him, trying to keep up with the boy. Teri spread out her arms, ready to catch him up in a big hug. To her surprise, Tony stopped short two feet away from her. He bowed with all the solemnity a five year old boy could manage.

" _Konnichiwa, ojii-chan_ ," Tony pronounced carefully.

McAllister smiled. Then his aged face grew as solemn as a judge's. He bowed. " _Konnichiwa_ , grandson." He hugged the boy. "Did Max teach you how to say 'grandpa'?"

Tony nodded. Max grinned.

Teri hugged her son. She turned to her father. "Pretty smart grandson you've got, huh? Only five and already bilingual."

McAllister grinned proudly.

"Mama, c'mon. You gotta try these apple thingies in Germany."

"Apple thingies?" McAllister repeated.

" _Apfelstreusel_ ," Max clarified. "And they are delicious."

Teri glanced at her watch. "Okay, but then we've got to go meet Mrs. Reynolds or we'll be late." She turned to the white-haired ninja. "Will you come with us?"

"You couldn't keep me away with an axe."

* * *

The A-Team found the fashion shoot on a small grassy area between the Botanical Building and the Timken Gallery _._  Tia nodded at them, acknowledging their presence, but wasn't able to join them for a few minutes. They looked around, enjoying the view of pretty women in pretty clothes, but also on the lookout for Col. Decker and the MPs, Gen. Stockwell, or any other threats. They'd lived on the  _qui vive_  too long to ever let down their guards. Keeping an eye open for threats was too engrained a habit; they never relaxed completely, and always looked for escape routes no matter where they were.

Twenty or thirty feet away, they saw two men, one old, one young. Both were watching a boy who was demonstrating how well he could turn cartwheels. Something about the pair, especially the old man, caught Hannibal's attention. He caught his team mates' eyes, then without a word, begin drifting toward the trio.

They'd gone about halfway when Tia broke away from the fashion shoot and ran up to embrace them. She greeted each one by name in an excited mix of English and Vietnamese, hugging them one after another.

"You look good, Tia." Face took a step back and examined the frilly, lacy summer dress she was wearing. "Darn good."

Hannibal waited a moment while BA and Murdock got caught up with Tia. Once the social niceties were out of the way, he asked, "Who are those guys over there?"

"One's Teri's father. I don't know about the other one. Maybe her brother?" Tia suggested, with a shrug. "She's not one of Dani's regular models. I don't know her that well."

"So he just came to watch Teri?" Hannibal persisted.

"To watch her little boy for her, really." Tia grinned mischievously. "The other one's been dividing his attention between the kid and the models."

"Guy's got good taste," Face teased.

Hannibal looked at the old man again, and found the old man looking at him. Assessing him. Hannibal had the uncanny feeling that the old man was undressing him with his eyes. Not the same way Face was ogling the models and mentally undressing them, no. There was nothing lewd or lascivious in the old man's gaze. He was eying the A-Team, seeing how they stripped, looking at their muscles, watching how they moved.

Threat assessment.

And no one did a threat assessment on strangers unless that person was A, expecting trouble, and B, a threat himself. Hannibal gave the old man another look. He might be old, but he definitely wasn't feeble. There was something about the man; he exuded a subtle aura of danger.

Hannibal didn't believe in New Age garbage about auras and crystals and such, but he knew all about exuding an aura of danger. He did so himself.

"Tia! You need to get changed," Dani Reynolds called.

"Coming," Tia yelled back. "See you in a little bit." She hurried off to the tent the models were using as a changing room.

* * *

Next to fashion photographer Dani Reynolds, male model Jack Stryker divided his attention between the A-Team and McAllister. All of them moved like men of action, men who were no strangers to danger. Jack recognized the body language. He saw it whenever he looked in the mirror.

* * *

"Teri, Tia, you've been so nice today," Billie cooed.

"What do you mean?" Teri asked.

"Bringing the cute guys," Ashley replied.

"I like Tia's blond best," Lisa announced.

"I like Teri's curly-haired guy better."

"They're just some friends of my father's," Tia lied. She added truthfully, "They were in the army with him in Vietnam."

"Hurry up, ladies," Rick called from outside the changing tent. "If you dawdle getting changed, I'm going to lose the light."

"Coming," Gretchen replied.

* * *

Max watched as Tony ran to Rick and Dani. "I'm getting worn out just watching that kid. Does he ever move at anything but a run?"

"Just keep an eye on him," McAllister ordered, "and not on the pretty girls." The boy was running back and forth, first with him and Max, then to his mother's side, then to the photographer to 'help,' then back to him and Max.

"I'm trying, but he's pretty fast, and they're – if you'll excuse the pun – pretty distracting," Max teased.

When the fashion shoot finished by the Botanical Building finished, Dani and her crew packed up everything and moved over to the gardens of the Café del Rey Moro. They then unpacked all the camera gear, changed into new outfits, and began shooting again.

"This place is very popular for wedding receptions," Dani commented.

Rick nodded. He could see where the gardens would make a wonderful background for shots of the bride and groom.

"It's just a shame we weren't able to use Casa del Prado," she said.

"Somebody else book it?"

"No, it looks great from a distance, but the graffiti and litter would show up in the photographs. Not the image we want to project."

* * *

Tony was driving a Hot Wheels car on the ground.

"Hey, Tony," a man called softly.

Tony looked up. "Mr. Presto!"

"Hey, kid," Tom Prestagiacomo said. "Your grandpa's here. Wanna come see him?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony agreed eagerly. He took the hand of his grandfather's chauffeur and went with him willingly. After all, he'd known "Mr. Presto" since he was in diapers.

* * *

McAllister came back from the bathroom and went to Max's side. He saw Teri, chatting with some of the other models. He didn't see his grandson. "Where's Tony?"

"Hanging out with the photographers. He thinks he's helping them."

McAllister looked at Dani and Rick. "I don't see him."

"He was there a second ago," Max said.

"Kids that age can move pretty fast in a second," McAllister replied. He scanned the area, but didn't spot the boy.

* * *

"Hannibal, that limo?" BA jutted his chin in the direction of the big, black car. "Maybe I'm wrong, but that looked like Joe Bongiovanni in the back seat."

* * *

"Bongiovanni?" BA had kept his voice low, but Teri heard him, nonetheless. She could hear that name whispered in the middle of a crowded mall. She looked around. Where was her son? "Dad?"

McAllister hurried to her side.

"Where's Tony? Joe is here; we've got to go." Her dark blue eyes were frightened, like a doe that had just spotted a poacher.

"Max is getting him," McAllister told her.

"What do you mean, getting him? Don't you have him?"

"He wanted to 'help' Rick."

Max trotted up just then. He looked at Teri, and hesitated a second. The last thing he wanted to do was admit to his master that he'd failed him and his daughter. But the idea of lying to them - lying to the master would be worse than failing him. He shook his head. "He's not with the photographers. Rick thought he was with me."

"Oh, no." She turned her head, looking in every direction. Then her face went pale.

"What is it?" McAllister asked.

"It's Presto, Joe's chauffeur. And he's got Tony."

McAllister laid a hand on her shoulder. "Stay calm. We'll get him."

"I'll go fetch him," Max volunteered. Without waiting for an answer, he trotted off after the boy.

Teri automatically started after him, but her father held her back. "Stay here. One is easier to rescue than two."

It took Max only a moment to reach Prestogiacomo and Tony. "Hey, Tony, your mom wants you." After a second's pause, he added, "She's not happy about you wandering off like that."

"It's okay," the child replied blithely. "I'm with Mr. Presto."

Prestagiacomo smiled. "I'm an old friend of the family."

Max noticed the bulge of the gun below Prestagiacomo's jacket, and out of deference to Tony's presence, bit back the obvious pun on 'family.' With unaccustomed restraint and discretion, he just said, "Your mom's waiting for you."

"Okay, as soon as I talk to Grandpa," Tony agreed.

Max lied, "You can talk to him after you see what your mom wants."

Tony hesitated. He hadn't seen Grandpa Joe in months.

Max pointed to a limo parked nearby. "Is that Grandpa Joe's car?"

Tony nodded.

"Does Grandpa Joe know you're faster than Speedy Gonzales?"

Tony shrugged.

" _Ojii-chan_  was really impressed by how well you turned cartwheels. How 'bout showing both of 'em how fast you can run?" When Tony hesitated, Max coaxed, "C'mon, I'll race you."

Prestagiacomo said, "Your mom can wait a minute. Your grandpa needs to see you, now."

"Yeah, see how fast you run. I'll give you a head start." Max crouched down into a runner's starting position.

Tony immediately sped off.

Prestagiacomo reached for his gun.

Max stepped in front of him, blocking Tony with his own body. "You might shoot me. You won't shoot Tony. Your boss would kill you – slowly."

Prestagiacomo swore, but he took his hand away from the gun.

"Watch your language. The kid might hear."

* * *

Joe Bongiovanni had been watching from the backseat of his limo. He frowned when he saw Tony run. He quietly issued orders. From the parked cars, four large, well-armed men emerged. Two other men put down their newspapers and rose from their benches, moving forward.

BA saw Tony running forward, running with the pure joy of youth in speed. Then he eyed Max and Prestagiacomo. Combat trained eyes noted the bulge. He looked around and saw the six men approaching. He caught Hannibal's gaze, and saw him watching Bongiovanni's men, too.

"We got trouble, Hannibal," BA announced.

Hannibal nodded.

The pair started walking toward Max and Prestagiacomo. Face and Murdock joined them without a word.

Rick, with a photographer's trained eye, couldn't help noticing the four men. It looked like a scene from an old western, the sheriff and his posse heading out to face the men in black hats.

* * *

_to be continued_

 


	3. Brawl in Balboa Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa Joe wants to reclaim custody of Tony. Grandpa John disagrees. A donnybrook ensues.

* * *

 

Bongiovanni's men headed toward the photo shoot. Hannibal and BA changed course to confront them. Face and Murdock followed a few feet behind and several feet to the side, ready to spread out if necessary.

"This isn't a healthy place to be. You might want to leave," Hannibal offered the words as a friendly warning, without any threat in his voice.

"Ain't none of your business," one of Bongiovanni's men told him.

"You threaten a kid, we're making it our business," BA growled.

A second gunsel spread out his hands. The gesture was probably intended to show they were non-threatening, but it showed his pistol. "Hey, nobody wants to hurt a kid."

"Especially not that kid," muttered the third henchman.

"I've got no quarrel with Joe Bongiovanni," Hannibal informed them. "If he doesn't want any quarrel with me, you gentlemen will find somewhere else to be."

Bongiovanni's gunsels traded worried glances that the white-haired stranger knew who they were and who their boss was.

"Who the Hell are you?" the first one demanded.

Hannibal's left eyebrow rose, as though he was surprised that they didn't know him. "Lt. Col. Hannibal Smith. We're the A-Team." He paused for a moment. "You've probably heard of us." He smiled wolfishly. "You don't want to be on our bad side."

* * *

Presto patted his gun. "You're right I wouldn't hurt Tony. But you're another matter." He jutted his chin in the direction of Bongiovanni's limousine. "C'mon. The boss is gonna wanna talk to you."

Max nodded, making no sudden moves. He slowly walked ahead of Presto, then stopped and turned to face him. "I'm the same as you; I just don't want Tony to get hurt." He paused as if he was about to ask something.

Presto drew his gun and gestured with it for Max to continue.

Max whirled and kicked. He knocked the gun out of Presto's hand. It landed on the grass four feet away. Then Max lunged for Presto, grabbed his shoulder, then released him. Presto wavered unsteadily on his feet. Max grabbed his right arm, pulled him forward, and threw him down to the ground. Then the apprentice ninja ran.

* * *

Across the meadow, the A-Team and Bongiovanni's gunsels couldn't help noticing what had happened. One reached for his pistol.

The leader shook his head. "Mr. Bongiovanni doesn't want to risk the kid getting hurt."

"That may be the only thing Joe Bongiovanni and I agree on," Hannibal said. "Neither do we." He punched the first henchman.

BA head-butted the second man, knocking him to the ground.

Face, three fathoms away, reached down and picked up a pinecone. He chucked it at the third henchman's head. The pinecone connected. Face grinned. Years had not dimmed the skills he'd won as star pitcher of the orphanage baseball team.

* * *

"Dani, Jack," Rick said in a quiet, but intense voice.

Both turned to look at the photographer.

"This one of your things I'm not supposed to know about?" Rick pointed to the scene across the meadow.

Dani Reynolds frowned. Although her espionage was supposed to be secret, Rick and several of the models knew that Jack Striker – as Mac Harper had been before him – was more than just a male model.

Jack took one look at the situation and took off running. A moment later, Tia Fulbright was running behind him.

"Stay back," Jack ordered her.

"And leave all the fun to you? No way!" Tia retorted.

* * *

Tony ran to his mother. She scooped him up in her arms.

"Mama! You're squishing me," Tony complained.

McAllister looked from his daughter and grandson to the fight between the A-Team and Bongiovanni's men, unsure where he was needed most, guarding his family or assisting the men taking down the goons.

* * *

Dani ran to the car. She used the car phone to call the police.

* * *

"Mind if we crash the party?" Tia asked Hannibal. She kicked at one of Bongiovanni's men.

Jack said nothing. His right hook knocked down one man. A savate kick pushed a second off-balance.

* * *

Max ran up to McAllister and his family. The white-haired ninja reached out a hand to steady him. "Take Tony and Teri to the van. If I'm not back in ten minutes, take them to the motel. I'll catch up with you when I can."

Max nodded.

"But I wanna see Grandpa Joe," Tony protested. "Mr. Presto said Grandpa Joe is here."

"Later, sweetheart, later," Teri reassured him, still clutching him in a frightened bear-hug.

"I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense," McAllister announced. He strode off across the grassy lawn toward the limo.

* * *

Tia kicked the man Jack had knocked off-balance. First she kicked his thigh. The she aimed a few inches over. Her foot hit below the belt. He grimaced and wept.

McAllister reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out two shuriken. They flew across the lawn and pierced the tires of the limousine.

The man Jack had knocked down got up; Jack punched him again. Hannibal hit his opponent so hard he tumbled backward and tripped against Jack's sparring partner. Jack kicked Hannibal's man, and he tumbled to the ground.

Face and Murdock had two gunsels of their own to fight. In unison, they hit Bongiovanni's henchmen. It looked like they had practiced and choreographed the whole fight; it would have been funny, if it hadn't been so painful. First, a right hook, then a left cross. A feint to the jaw, then a sucker punch to the gut. Then Face and Murdock each took a step back, then hit each other's opponents.

Two mounted police officers trotted up. They took one look at the scene before them and immediately radioed for backup.

BA grabbed a man and swung him into the man next to him. The second gunsel tottered unsteadily. McAllister reached out as if to steady him, then tossed him to the ground in a judo throw.

Tia positioned herself behind the man Hannibal was hitting. She gave the white-haired colonel a quick nod. Hannibal socked his jaw, and the gunsel tripped over her and to the ground.

McAllister stepped in front of Prestogiacomo. "Never," he grabbed the chauffeur's shoulder, "threaten my family." He lifted the man two inches off the ground, then threw him down.

"All right, break it up," shouted the policeman on the chestnut gelding.

"Okay, folks, calm down," added his partner, astride a bay.

The A-Team wasn't quite ready to follow directions. Their fists continued to fly.

The police officers slowly rode forward into the melee, wedging their horses' bodies between the fighters.

Ignoring them, McAllister continued on to the limousine.

When a large creature, nearly half a ton in weight, steps between two men fighting, they have no choice but to notice the beast. Especially when an armed man is atop the horse.

"Break it up," the first officer repeated.

Hannibal lifted his hands to show he was unarmed. "Officer, these men work for Joe Bongiovanni, and they're armed."

"What's the penalty for carrying a concealed weapon in California?" Face asked.

* * *

Joseph Bongiovanni sat in his limousine, watching the fight. Suddenly there was a stranger standing next to the open window of the car.

McAllister laid a hand on Bongiovanni's wrist. The touch felt gentle, yet the Mafioso was stunned to realize he couldn't move his arm. "My name's McAllister. I'm Tony's other grandfather."

"Teresa's father is dead."

"Not dead. It's a long story, and I'll tell you later. It's gonna be tough enough on Tony when he gets older and realizes both his grandfathers are killers. Better he not see something at this age that would disturb him."

Bongiovanni raised a bushy gray eyebrow _._  "Both?"

"Right now you're just his grandpa, and he loves you. He's got no idea what you do for a living. Let him have only good memories of Grandpa Joe."

Bongiovanni took a deep breath, then nodded. "We don't wanna scare Tony. That boy, he's everything to me."

McAllister nodded his agreement. "Now that I've found Teri and Tony, I will do anything I have to in order to protect them. From anyone."

Bongiovanni opened the car door and stepped out. "I would never hurt Tony." He shut the passenger door, then opened the driver's door. "It would confuse him, I think, to see me arrested." He glanced at the police, now joined by two more mounted patrolmen. "I'll send a lawyer for my people." He got in the limo and turned the key. "This isn't over, McAllister."

"It is for now." The white-haired ninja stepped back. He wondered how far Bongiovanni would manage to drive with two flat tires. McAllister said nothing as the car drove away.

"Hey!" one of the policemen shouted.

McAllister reached into his pocket and withdrew two smoke bombs. He threw them.

The A-Team, Bongiovanni's men, and the police began coughing. The horses whinnied nervously. Under the cover of the smoke, McAllister led the A-Team, Jack, and Tia to safety.

"Much obliged," Hannibal told him.

"I owed you for taking care of Bongiovanni's men while I took care of him," McAllister replied.

"That little boy okay?" BA asked.

"He will be," McAllister promised.

"What about Bongiovanni?" Hannibal asked.

"He didn't want Tony to see him arrested; he was afraid it would upset the boy."

"So you just let him go?" Jack asked. He knew who and what Joe Bongiovanni was.

"No, I just made sure he'd be arrested where Tony couldn't see what happened to Grandpa Joe. I punctured two of the tires on his limo. I don't think the police will have much trouble catching up with him."

Hannibal chuckled and BA smiled.

"Are you going back to the photo shoot?" McAllister asked Tia.

"I don't know if it's safe or not. I'd ... rather not deal with the police."

"Might be safer if you didn't," Face agreed. The forged ID papers he'd obtained for her were good quality, but there was no reason for an illegal alien to take unnecessary risks.

"I have to go back," Jack said. Dani needed him; he was the only male model hired for this shoot. He had to maintain his cover.

"Tell Mrs. Reynolds that I'm taking Teri and Tony home. I think they've both had enough for one day," McAllister said.

* * *

"Thank God!" Max declared when he saw McAllister walk up to the van. "One more minute and I was going to head for the motel."

"Are you all right?" Teri asked.

"What happened?" Tony demanded. "Why was everyone fighting?"

McAllister climbed into the back of the van. He leaned over the passenger seat and kissed his daughter's cheek. Then he sat down cross-legged on the floor, pulled Tony into his lap, and hugged him. "Head for the motel, Max."

" _Hai, meijin._ "

McAllister thought a second, trying to decide how to answer. "Those men got into a fight with Grandpa Joe's friends. Grandpa Joe is going to talk to the police and try to get everything settled."

"That's good," Tony approved. "Grandpa Joe says you should always take care of your own."

"Well, you and your Mom are my own now. Would it be okay if I took care of you?" McAllister asked.

"I guess so," Tony replied.

McAllister turned to look at his daughter. "I can't do anything to make up for the years I missed. But I'd like a chance to get to know you, to become a family."

Teri nodded. "I'd like that, too."

_finis_


End file.
